


Beneath My Heart

by nyromes



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Schönberg/Boublil, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Alpha Enjolras, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Sex, Bottom Grantaire, Established Relationship, Fingering, Fluff, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Insecurity, M/M, Male Lactation, Morning Sickness, Mpreg, Omega Grantaire, Omega Verse, Pregnant Sex, Smut, Top Enjolras, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-09
Updated: 2017-07-09
Packaged: 2018-11-30 02:32:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11454147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nyromes/pseuds/nyromes
Summary: “It’s positive,” Grantaire says. “I’m pregnant.”Enjolras blinks.“You- You what?”Grantaire laughs, a little breathless. It’s the first time he’s ever seen Enjolras at a loss for words.“I’m… I’m five weeks pregnant…”





	Beneath My Heart

 

 

“Grantaire?”

Enjolras lets the door to their apartment fall into its lock and toes off his shoes, tossing his jacket into the corner. He stumbles into the living room, stopping dead in his tracks when he spots the dark-haired man sitting on the floor between the couch and the coffee table.

The omega smiles when he catches sight of the blond, but there’s something in his eyes that Enjolras can’t quite place.

“You sent me a text. Saying you need to tell me something?”

“Yeah- You, um… Yeah…” Grantaire swallows, looking at the wine glass on the coffee table. There’s no wine in it, just water. He glances up at Enjolras. “You should probably sit down for this.”

A faint sense of panic rises in Enjolras’s chest. He puts his bag down on the counter, frowning worriedly as he meets the hesitant look on his omega’s face. He sits on the edge of the couch.

“You’re not drinking,” he says. It’s phrased as a statement, but it’s clearly a question.

Grantaire shakes his head, the smile on his face wavering a little. The confidence in his eyes falters.

“Did something happen?”

Grantaire opens his mouth, then bites his lip with a sheepish smile. “Yeah, um- Yeah… Kinda?”

He huffs a laugh, a strained, high-pitched sound at the back of his throat, and runs a hand through his hair, casting the blond a tentative glance from under his lashes. He takes a breath, then holds up a small pink plastic stick that makes the blond’s heart flutter in his chest.

“It’s positive,” Grantaire says. “I’m pregnant.”

Enjolras blinks.

“You- You what?”

Grantaire laughs, a little breathless. It’s the first time he’s ever seen Enjolras at a loss for words.

“I’m… I’m five weeks pregnant…”

A look of shock flashes in Enjolras’s eyes before he laughs, sinking to his knees and pulling Grantaire into a hug, still perplexed but smiling so much it hurts. He hides his face in the crook of Grantaire’s neck and tightens his hold, pressing a firm kiss to the bitemark on the omega’s neck. Grantaire gasps for air when the blond pulls back and leans their foreheads together, his hands coming up to cup the sides of Grantaire’s face. There are tears in the omega’s eyes and Enjolras wipes them away, kissing the smile on his lips.

“You’re pregnant.”

Grantaire nods.

“We’re gonna be parents.”

“Yeah.”

Enjolras shakes his head, placing a hand on the omega’s stomach, making Grantaire laugh.

“You’re amazing,” Enjolras whispers, “I love you so much, I can’t- God, we’re gonna be parents.”

He runs a hand through his hair, his eyes wide and looking both more scared and happy than Grantaire has ever seen him before. It’s comical, and Grantaire can’t keep the grin off his face as he pulls his alpha into another kiss, smiling into his lips.

“I love you, too,” he laughs, wrapping his arms around the younger man’s neck, “I love you, baby daddy.”

 

* x * x *

 

Enjolras wakes to an empty bed and weak, muffled coughs coming from the adjoining bathroom.

The sun is only just rising over the roofs of Paris, casting playful rays through the gaps in the curtains and painting the room in a gentle summer light. It’s still comfortably cool inside the apartment, but the faint breeze coming through the open window already carries the promise of another day too hot to go outside.

Enjolras is rubbing a hand over his eyes when another groan interrupts the silence, making him push back the covers and stumble through the bathroom door.

The look that Grantaire sends him has become all too familiar to him.

 _Don’t you dare say anything stupid right now_.

But then he gags and leans over the toilet again, fingers gripping the cold ceramic, and the boxer’s expression changes from seriously threatening to painfully pitiable almost in an instant as his body tenses and the contents of his stomach splatter into the toilet.

Enjolras sinks down next to him on his knees.

He pushes a strand of hair out of Grantaire’s face, then card his fingers through the dark curls with a sympathetic smile, rubbing gentle circles into the omega’s scalp and feeling the smaller man lean into his touch exhaustedly.

A sheen of cold sweat lines Grantaire’s forehead and he’s still breathing shallowly, trying to catch his breath, but he goes willingly when Enjolras pulls him against his shoulder and rubs a soothing hand down his spine.

“Pregnancy sucks,” Grantaire mumbles under his breath, and Enjolras presses a gentle kiss to the top of his head.

“Why didn’t you wake me up? You could have told me.”

Grantaire snorts sarcastically. “Didn’t exactly get a heads-up,” he grumbles. “Shit, ah, lemme-”

He struggles to free himself of the alpha’s embrace and Enjolras squeezes his shoulder as another wave of nausea washes over him.

“Want me to get you some tea?” Enjolras asks when Grantaire flushes the toilet and sinks back against him.

Grantaire nods.

“Gonna go back to bed, though. Tryna sleep,” he grumbles as he lets Enjolras help him up. He brushes his teeth and the blond goes to make his tea, and by the time Enjolras comes back to the bedroom a few minutes later, the omega is sprawled out diagonally across the bed, like a starfish, and snoring softly.

 

* x * x *

 

The chair Grantaire is sat on nearly topples over with the force of Jehan's embrace when they finally tell their friends a couple of days later. He actually spills a bottle of beer over Bossuet's lap in his rush to throw his arms around the expecting omega. Bossuet's not really surprised.

On the other side of the room, standing between Combeferre and Courfeyrac, Enjolras is beaming like he's never been more proud. The way he looks at Grantaire every time someone comes up to him to congratulate them has the power to make butterflies burst from Grantaire's heart.

It feels like family to Grantaire, more than he could have ever hoped for, and he laughs at the way Jehan clings to him even though it's hard to breathe with the small alpha's arms wrapped this tightly around his neck.

Bossuet can't keep a grin off his face when Joly launches into a speech about prenatal vitamins. Feuilly pats Grantaire's back in a brotherly gesture.

There are so many questions, so many people talking excitedly all at once that Grantaire's glad for his alpha's weirdly endless patience, because it all feels a little overwhelming right now.

He feels a hand on his shoulder and looks up to see Bahorel sitting down on the chair next to him, pulling him into a one-armed hug, never minding the poet still clinging to Grantaire. There's a grin on Bahorel's face that would look smug to anyone else, but Grantaire knows Bahorel is probably happier for him than anyone else. After all they've been through together, Bahorel is like a brother to Grantaire. Which is why the omega smiles as he leans into the alpha's side, jabbing him in the ribs with a huff of mock-indignation when Bahorel ruffles his hair and calls him wifey. Bahorel just laughs, and Grantaire rolls his eyes and lets the alpha tug him even closer.

It's summer, the air inside the Musain stuffy and hot, and it's even warmer with Jehan's body and Bahorel's arms wrapped around him but Grantaire doesn't care.

Across the room, by the window, Enjolras is still talking to the group’s centre and his guide. But every few seconds his eyes flick over to find Grantaire’s, smiling like the cat that got the cream, and making Grantaire feel more at home than he’s ever felt before.

 

* x * x *

 

“And then he went out to get a crib! I’m just a few days past the first trimester and our apartment already looks like a fucking nursery.” Grantaire sighs exhaustedly and rubs his hands over his face, looking at Bahorel with helpless eyes. “He doesn’t even know how to assemble a crib! And he’s too damn stubborn to let me help!”

Bahorel snorts and takes another sip of his coke, having foregone the wine in solidarity with Grantaire. He’s doing a pretty poor job at hiding his amusement, but Grantaire decides to let it slide because he needs someone to listen to his rant.

“Have you ever seen Enjolras with an electric screwdriver? It’s carnage!” Grantaire groans and drops his forehead to the table with a thud. “I miss my wine…”

Bahorel chuckles. “I’m sorry, man, really. But he’s just trying to take care of you. It’s his instincts…” He shrugs.

“I know. That’s the thing. I know he’s trying to build a home and provide for the kid and stuff, and it’s sweet, it really is, but it’s driving me crazy.” He pinches his nose and places a hand on his belly. “I love them, both, Enjolras and the baby, more than anything, but I just miss the old days, you know? I miss going out with you guys and having a drink and not having to get up to pee all the time, just because _someone_ ,” he looks pointedly at the small bulge under his palm, “feels like sleeping on my bladder.”

Bahorel casts him a sympathetic smile and thanks the waitress when she places a vast plate of tortilla chips and guacamole on their table. He pushes the plate toward Grantaire, and grins when it manages to light a spark in the omega’s tired eyes.

“Thanks, man,” Grantaire says, “I just needed to get out, you know. Escape the craziness for a couple hours.”

“Sure. I get it… But you know you’ll have to go home eventually. And assemble that crib.”

“I know…” Grantaire sighs, swallowing a mouthful of chips and scooping guacamole onto a couple more. “And then I’ll have to go and convince my stubborn mate that he’s still gonna be a great dad even if he can’t, for the life of him, put together a piece of furniture.”

Bahorel nods and grabs a handful of chips, earning himself a glare from Grantaire that only seems to be half in jest.

“You _did_ know what you were getting yourself into,” Bahorel says, and Grantaire mumbles something unintelligible but nods, shovelling another helping of carbs and avocado into his mouth before he groans and shoves the plate into the middle of the table, struggling to the edge of the booth to get up.

“Gotta pee,” he grumbles, and sends Bahorel a look, “don’t you dare eat all my chips while I’m gone.”

 

* x * x *

 

“You smell different, you know. Not like dark chocolate or rain on warm concrete, but more like vanilla and caramel. Still you, but different.”

Enjolras smiles and scoots down a little on the sofa, gently pushing the omega’s shirt up and nuzzling the swell of his stomach. He splays his hand over the expanse of bare skin, kissing the stretchmarks that make his mate feel even more insecure about his body than he does already.

“Was strange at first,” Enjolras continues, “Hard to fall asleep without your scent. But I like it… Our baby’s scent mixed with yours.” He lets his hand roam over the pale, stretched skin, chuckling softly when he hears the hitch in Grantaire’s breath. “Makes my heart race a little whenever you’re near me.”

The omega’s eyes fall closed and Enjolras guides his fingers further down, trailing them along the waistband of Grantaire’s sweatpants before moving them back up over the curve of the omega’s belly.

He can feel Grantaire’s hand in his hair, tugging at his curls, and his lips curl into a smile as he kisses his way up the man’s chest, his collarbones, his shoulder, his neck. He licks over the scar there, causing the omega to gasp, and Grantaire turns his head until his mouth finds Enjolras’s. He brushes their lips together, softly, and allows the alpha’s tongue to meet his own before he pulls back to meet the younger man’s eyes.

“You know what’d be good right now?”

Enjolras shakes his head with a grin.

“Chocolate,” Grantaire muses, “Chocolate pudding with caramel syrup and fries.”

 

* x * x *

 

“Enj-” Grantaire whines, his hand searching the dark for the form of his alpha and poking the sleeping man’s chest. “Enjolras, please-”

He hears the younger man stir and shuffles closer into his warmth, getting as close as his belly allows and pushing a hand under the blond’s oversized t-shirt. Enjolras growls low in his throat and rubs his eyes, making a confused-sounding noise as he’s being woken from sleep.

“Enj, could you… please, fuck-” Grantaire slips his knee between the alpha’s legs, grinding the hard outline of his cock down against Enjolras’s hip.“ ’M horny and… _Fuck_ , my chest hurts- Please--”

He groans frustratedly and Enjolras chuckles, albeit tired.

“Again?”

Grantaire nods and Enjolras seems to get it, even though he can’t really see him in the dark. But he shuffles down and kisses the omega’s jaw and his fingers tug at Grantaire’s shirt until it’s bunched up under his arms and Enjolras can drag the pad of his thumb over the hard, leaking nub of Grantaire’s nipple. The omega gasps.

“Too much?”

Grantaire shakes his head, moving closer and hiding his face in the crook of Enjolras’s neck. “Just… Sensitive,” he whispers, “Fuck, this is embarrassing…”

Enjolras smiles in sympathy.

“It’s normal,” he says, letting his hand trail down over the omega’s huge, round stomach and under the waistband of his boxers. “Lay back, okay? I’ve got you.”

Grantaire nods, turning onto his back with a drawn-out whine. He can’t really lift his hips to help Enjolras take off his boxers but they manage somehow and Grantaire spreads his legs, letting the alpha move a hand down between his thighs. He bites his lip when Enjolras presses up against his side and finally swipes his tongue over his nipple while circling the rim of his entrance with the tips of his fingers and coating them in slick before pushing two of them inside.

“Enjolras-” Grantaire bucks his hips, trying to push down on the alpha’s digits. “Move, please.”

Enjolras hums around Grantaire’s nipple, making the omega moan, and then pulls his fingers back a little, adding a third and guiding them back inside, twisting them slightly until he finds the smooth bundle of nerves he was looking for.

He chuckles at the soft cry breaking from Grantaire’s mouth and sucks a little harder on the omega’s nipple, lapping up the thin, watery milk leaking from the nub.

“Other- Other side… Enj-” Grantaire groans and his voice breaks off when Enjolras twists his fingers again and complies, leaning over the older man’s chest to lick around the other nipple. It only takes a couple more thrusts. Enjolras drags his fingertips over the omega’s prostate, applies a little more pressure against the velvety walls, and Grantaire clenches around his fingers, crying out and pushing back onto the intrusion as he comes in spurts over his lower stomach, letting the alpha finger him through his orgasm.

“Fuck,” Grantaire smiles when Enjolras crawls up and braces his hands on either side of the omega’s head, kissing the corner of his lips. He wraps his arms around the blond’s neck and pulls him in, sealing their lips together in a proper kiss.

_Fuck morning breath._

The alpha chuckles and kisses back, then lays down at Grantaire’s side.

“Feeling better?” he asks.

“For now.” Grantaire grins. He turns to his mate, placing his hand on the alpha’s waist and guiding it down, sliding his fingers under the waistband of the alpha’s sweatpants. “Your turn.”

 

* x * x *

 

“Because _you_ knocked me up! And now I’m- I’m huge and round and I don’t fit in my clothes and I can’t tie my shoes and- My shoes don’t even fit me anymore! What the hell am I supposed to wear, huh? My back hurts, Enjolras, and I can’t- I just can’t! It’s like this baby is trying to kill me. And I know it’s not really your fault, okay, _I know_ , but you don’t have to deal with hormones and weight gain and fake contractions and, _fuck_ , I feel so fat, Enjolras, I used to have abs! Remember that? I used to do kick-boxing with Bahorel and I used to be able to run when I was stressed and now I can’t- I can’t even see my feet anymore, I’m so huge. I feel like a fucking cow!”

He lies back on the mattress and rubs a hand over his face, taking a deep breath. “It’s not fair…”

Enjolras is glad Grantaire’s avoiding his eyes, because he can’t help the smile on his face. He walks up to the bed and reaches out to his pouting mate, waiting for the omega to take his hand.

“C’mon,” he says, “We don’t have to go out, okay? I’ll cook you dinner. We’ll stay in and watch TV.”

Grantaire glares at him, but eventually relents all the same. Grumbling, he lets himself be pulled up and into the alpha’s arms, his belly putting some distance between them and making him look down at it with a discontented frown. Enjolras chuckles and places both of their hands on the swell of Grantaire’s stomach.

“It’s kicking,” Enjolras says, sounding a little awed, and Grantaire nods. “Think it knows it’s me?”

A small smile tugs at the corner of Grantaire’s lips. “Always kicks when you’re ‘round…” he says, “It’s weird…”

He looks back down at the alpha’s soft hands on his tummy, watching the way Enjolras runs his fingers over the stretched expanse of skin under the t-shirt, like Grantaire’s belly is the most important thing in the world. Like a promise to always take care of him and the fragile, little life growing inside him.

It makes them both chuckle, and Grantaire can’t help but wrap his arms around the blond’s neck as well as he can with his baby belly still pressed between them and drag him down into a playful kiss.

“You’re really beautiful, Grantaire,” Enjolras says when he breaks away, meeting the omega’s bright blue eyes. “It’s not what you’re used to, I get that, but you’ve no idea what it does to me. Seeing you like this. All round and full because you’re carrying our child… You’re amazing, you know that? And it’s just a few more weeks. You’ll get your abs back in no time.”

Grantaire rolls his eyes with a smile, then leans up for another kiss.

“Didn’t you say something ‘bout dinner?”

The alpha chuckles, but nods. “What would you like?”

 

* x * x *

 

“Better?”

Grantaire nods, head relaxing into the pillow with a sigh. Enjolras’s breath is hot on the back of his neck.

“Yeah. Feels good… Really good. _Fuck_ -” He groans, and he can feel the smile tugging at the corner of Enjolras’s lips when he presses a kiss to Grantaire’s shoulder.

They’re lying on their sides, Grantaire’s back flush against his alpha’s naked chest and Enjolras is moving slowly, thrusting shallowly, listening to the omega’s whimpers and moans. It’d been difficult to find a position, due to the size of Grantaire’s belly, and when Grantaire could no longer ride him, Enjolras helped him lay down on the bed and pressed himself up against his back.

“You’re so beautiful, Grantaire… I love you so much.”

He feels the omega’s muscles tensing up and relaxing as the head of his cock finds Grantaire’s prostate. He hears his breath catch in his throat, and Grantaire bares his neck to his mate with a groan when Enjolras kisses the warm, soft skin behind his ear. They both moan in unison when Enjolras nuzzles the curve of his neck and his teeth graze the bitemark there that he left the night after Grantaire almost got shot at a riot. A small, but lasting scar that marks Grantaire as his and made Enjolras promise to always take care of him even though he knows his mate can take care of himself just fine.

Grantaire whimpers. “Enj, please… I’m close-”

He grins when Grantaire reaches back to pull him closer by the hip and bucks into his thrusts. His fingers wrap around the omega’s cock to give him some friction. Grantaire moans and tightens his grip on Enjolras’s hip as his head falls forward and his eyes fall closed.

Then, with a few more thrusts and Enjolras’s name on his lips, Grantaire comes into his alpha’s hand, clenching down on his length and tipping his mate over the edge as well.

“Fuck,” Grantaire whispers and Enjolras chuckles into his shoulder.

He places his palm over the swell of his stomach, smiling when Enjolras covers his hand with his own and intertwines their fingers.

“Just one more week,” Grantaire mumbles.

And Enjolras can’t keep the grin off his lips as he buries his face in the crook of Grantaire’s neck and nods.

 

 


End file.
